


Best Kept Secret

by ShelbyLehnsherr



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Slash, X-Men: First Class
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-19
Updated: 2011-07-19
Packaged: 2017-10-21 13:14:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/225577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShelbyLehnsherr/pseuds/ShelbyLehnsherr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charles comes to visit Erik one evening to find that Erik had fallen asleep before his arrival. Charles has an interesting way of rousing him and it leads to other things in the process.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Best Kept Secret

It had taken the children far longer than strictly necessary to wander off in their different directions; under normal circumstances, the mansion fell quiet by eleven -- their days of extensive training often left them exhausted, and both he and Erik adhered to a strict seven o’ clock wake up call. Tonight had been different, however, for some unknown reason. It had started directly after dinner, when Hank had launched into an explanation of some obscure scientific theory that only Charles understood; after a few moments, Alex had grown so annoyed that he unwittingly started an unruly uprising -- one insult was all it took, and soon, his tidy sitting room had turned into a metaphorical battlefield.

From across the room, he’d caught Erik’s eye -- he always marveled at Erik’s ability to keep a relatively level head during these situations, while he struggled to keep the peace -- and finally, one yell from the other man was all it took to stun the room into silence. The children, now cowed into submission, mumbled a few words of apology and thankfully went to their own rooms; by that time, it was nearing half past ten, and it took another hour for the hum of unrest in the house to finally fall silent.

Charles Xavier prided himself on his almost unnatural amount of patience. He was, somehow, able to tolerate the most extreme of situations; Raven always said that it was perfect that he wanted to become a professor, because there was no other way that he would be able to teach a roomful of disorderly co-ed students without that sort of tolerance. That patience, however, was regularly tested now that his once empty home was filled with vicarious mutants. His days were filled with training or some sort of chaperoning, whether it was at meal times or during the few hours they had to simply leisure about, and though he wanted nothing more than to lock himself up in his bedroom as soon as the house quieted, his nights were often dedicated to the company of Erik.

In retrospect, Charles wasn’t quite sure when this routine fell into such easy compliancy, but night after night, he found himself in his own personal study or in one of their bedrooms, some bottle of alcohol in hand and the promise of a game of chess awaiting him. And when their meetings turned from ones between simple friends into something far more complicated, it had required very little thought on his own part; it was almost easy, even.

Tonight had been no different; he’d promised Erik earlier in the day that he would meet him in the bedroom as soon as the children were asleep, and he’d fully intended to keep the promise. The disruption after dinner had set their plans back significantly, and he found himself, for one of the first times in his life, impatient. He couldn’t very well go strolling up to Erik’s room while the children were still awake; he hadn’t missed the sideways glances across the dinner table both he and Erik were receiving, and he needed to squash any suspicions before they had a chance to fully manifest. So he waited, and waited, and waited -- the hands on the clock were moving backward, he was sure of it -- until some semblance of peace finally settled over the mansion and he was free to climb the flights of stairs to the other man’s bedroom.

Charles plucked a bottle of wine from its hiding place behind the other jars and bottles crowding the refrigerator -- alcohol was always required at these meetings, and it was Erik’s personal favorite -- and turned to retrieve the glasses he’d set out earlier.  
Discretion was key at this point; he stepped as quietly as possible across the tile floor and to the foot of the stairs, carefully avoiding the one at the bottom that creaked when stepped upon. He was at the second landing when a familiar voice stopped him, and he could have cringed.

“What are you doing?”

“Oh, Raven,” He needed to save face, so he turned and put on a smile for her benefit. “I ...” A pause, in which he glanced down at the bottle of wine in his hand. “...just thought I’d have a drink before bed.”

He noticed the way her eyes narrowed and knew that she doubted him even before she spoke again. Her gaze shifted from his face to the wine in his hand and back again, and she tilted her head to one side slightly. “Why do you have two glasses?”

Charles did cringe at that, though he did present a gallant effort at a laugh. “Oh...right.” Had he been thinking clearly, he would have crafted some sort of clever excuse that would distract her -- though she was a bright young woman, she was still gullible -- but in his panic, logic failed him. “Join me, then?”

She pursed her lips for a moment, and the expression on her face resembled that of someone who’s only just witnessed something completely outrageous. “No thanks.” He could hear the question behind her words -- the wonderwherehe’sgoingwhohe’smeeting that she clearly thought but didn’t voice -- and he smiled again, a little wider.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” Raven said, but the word was drawn out, as if even she wasn’t sure. “...Good night, Charles.”

“Good night, love.” He leant forward to kiss her cheek, turned, and walked up the remaining stairs, thanking whatever unconscious action had caused him to place Erik in a bedroom so close to his own.

Nudging the door open without knocking, Charles ducked inside quickly and locked the bolt behind him. “I’m sorry for the delay, I was ambushed on the -- oh.” His gaze settled on the other man, who was currently lying across the bed -- Charles envied his ability to look almost unnervingly elegant while doing anything, even the most menial of actions -- with his eyes closed. He smiled and set the bottle of wine down on the end table, stepping out of his shoes before climbing onto the bed next to Erik. Leaning down, he pressed a quick kiss to the corner of the other man’s mouth, brushing a hand across his cheek.

“Did I really keep you waiting that long?”

Even though the words met his ears in the form of a whisper, Erik drew in a sharp breath, turning his head away slightly as he gradually began to regain consciousness. It took him a few moments to realize that Charles was indeed lying within a close proximity, upper half of his body practically towering over him. His eyes slowly fluttered open, a deep furrow forming between his brows as the light from the lamp on the nightstand temporarily impaired his vision. He heard Charles question, he just hadn’t mustered the energy quite yet to answer it. To be honest, Erik hadn’t even known he’d fallen asleep. He didn’t want to believe that he did, since he was usually so accustomed staying up waiting for Charles to arrive.

He cleared his throat, a small smile working its way across his handsome face. “Must’ve been more tired than I thought.”

His smile widened as he watched Erik wake; it was obvious from the expression on his face that he was completely unaware of the fact that he’d fallen asleep in the first place. Though it wasn’t extremely late in comparison to their usual standards -- Erik, as Charles had observed in their early days of their friendship, slept nearly as little as he did -- he was able to sympathize with the accidental doze. He’d caught himself nodding off more often than he would have liked on the nights he spent in his study, bent over stacks of paperwork and various tomes of genetic research, and he knew how easy it would have been for Erik here, sprawled across a bed with nothing to do but wait.

Charles kissed him again, quick and fleeting, before he pulled away and reached for the bottle of wine that was still sitting on the end table. “Well, I brought a little something that might wake you up.” he said with another grin.

Erik had to squint to read the small, elegant cursive printed across the label, and finally released a chuckle; his favorite brand. Never once had he told Charles the particular brand of wine he favored most, but he supposed he didn’t have to. He was sure at one time or another Charles went through his memory bank to find out some information that would prove to beneficial at some point. A hand went up to sift slowly through Charles soft, brown locks, the corners of his eyes creasing as his smile widened. “With you on top of me, I doubt I will need the wine.”

One of the advantages of being a telepath came in the form of small moments such as these -- he no longer puttered around in Erik’s mind in an attempt to unlock some of the darker secrets he kept hidden, instead keeping his intentions much more innocent. Though they’d come to a haphazard agreement that Charles would not attempt to read his mind, he was sure that Erik wouldn’t mind this simple intrusion. He was smiling, after all, and Charles could feel the ripple of satisfaction and pleasure waft from Erik’s mind into his own, and he knew that he’d done right by this.

He leaned into the touch, twisting his head slightly so that he could press a kiss to the inside of Erik’s exposed wrist. Desire coiled in the pit of his stomach at Erik’s words, and he felt something like exhilaration flicker in the back of his mind -- though this certainly wasn’t the first time they’d found themselves in this sort of situation, he still couldn’t help but feel as he did the first time, all nerves and excitement and pent-up longing. He quirked a brow and smiled crookedly, his attention wandering away from the wine and back to the other man. “Is that right?”

Erik nodded, resting his large hand on the back of Charles’ head. “Yeah,” Came his reply, propping himself up on one elbow. “You’ve got my attention.” He rumbled lowly, eyes slowly roaming over the expanse of Charles’ torso, then smiling in a manner far too seductive for his own good.

“Groovy.” The old pick-up line slipped back into use easily, as absolutely horrendous as it was. He supposed he’d never truly live it down -- Raven had always teased him for it, and he could see the amusement flash across Erik’s face as well. He followed Erik’s gaze for the briefest of moments before focusing again on his face, suddenly extremely close now that the other man had supported himself up on one elbow. The hand on the back of his head was heavy, and Charles felt himself leaning forward slightly, so that only a few inches separated them. “I’ve already locked the door.”

Erik chuckled again, cocking his head slightly to the side. “Seems like you’re a couple steps ahead of me.” He leaned up, closing the distance between their lips. It was a tangle of tongues: a languid, yet passionate dance. Erik’s unoccupied hand made an almost unnoticeable movement, index slowly curling inward as the crease between his brows deepened in concentration. The button on Charles’ trousers came undone, and the zipper was slowly being pulled down. His magnetism certainly had its perks.

Their foreplay was sort of like chess: strategically planned and executed, with the occasional mindless pillow talk that mimicked the discussions they had during a lengthy game.

Charles couldn’t help but shudder as soon as Erik kissed him -- though he’d expected it, the abrupt action still caught him slightly off guard. The kiss may have been slow, but he could feel the passion reverberating from Erik nonetheless. His hands wandered down to the hem of Erik’s sweater and slipped underneath, sliding up the warm expanse of his chest. He could feel the zipper on his trousers slowly descending, and he smiled against the other man’s lips, a small laugh bubbling out of the back of his throat.  
“You waste no time, do you?”

 **-End-**

**Author's Note:**

> My co-author and I totally think that Charles was going to see Erik when he took the wine out of the fridge. xP


End file.
